I want to pay tribute to wonderful people I have known, the wonderful country in which I live, the communities in which I have lived, the churches who have claimed me as their own, the God who sends shivers down my back when I really give him a portion of my time—well, maybe not shivers but tears flow easily in some of those most priceless times.
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Anyone know this song from long ago. “There is glory, there is glory, there’s a glory hallelujah in my soul.” A good way to start the Sabbath day. – Okay, not the original Sabbath. An argument so early in the day will drive away the glory!
Well, dear readers, I pray that today we will all find real glory in our worship. Let’s not get all wrought up with theological points, but neither let us fake glory.
Jesus is not fake; he is real, just as he was yesterday, and as he will be tomorrow. Today is a victory celebration day, and it should also be “arm yourself for battle” day.
So may you have a real “glory in Jesus” and “strength in his Word” day everyday! For a bit of added fragrance, bask in the truth of the following poem:
THE ROSE OF SHARON
A rose grew by the garden path
A child took a sniff, ran away with a laugh.
A short time later, a man walked by
Smelled the rose and made a pleasant sigh.
Now, I’ll ask a question, if I may.
If the rose were sniffed by a hundred noses,
Would it lose its fragrance by the end of the day?
So, what is my lesson from the rose?
Jesus’ love suffers no loss
No matter the number
Who partake at the cross.
His fragrance never diminishes. Try it out. Find a quiet place. Breath in and think of Him. Isn’t it sweet? If you don’t “get a whiff,” move closer.
image from Pixabay
Hello, Friends, good news is that Jadalyn came to my house from the hospital on Wednesday and has been here until last night. She had passed out on Sunday night. Her dad gave her CPR and the ambulance brought her to Children’s Hospital. Don’t really know what caused the crisis but we are so thankful for recovery. They (doctors) will continue to monitor and there is hope for something better than what she has been going through.
Obviously I am very far behind on my usual routine, but there is hope for that also. 😀 For a few day, however, I might be passing on some edited blogs from my first year on blog – those days when I didn’t know what a category, tag, “media” or a “like” was. You remember – when the best I could dream of was having a dozen followers. Had no relatives or friends who would read me so no hopes there. I comforted myself with what the Bible says about the prophet being without honor in his own country! 😀
I don’t know who originated this delightful piece (maybe a blog “for reading addicts”), but it was sent to me by my niece via FB.
I’m needing some prayer for my great-granddaughter, Jadalyn, who is in the hospital for tests related to some lung issues. I’ve just reread this blog from the beginning of my blogging experience (fall, 2015) and am reminded again of how often God does answer prayer in such unexpected ways. So I’m doing a copy and paste. Going back to the hospital to spend the night with her in about an hour. So I’m hurrying! 😀
I want to tell you some stories about some amazing coincidences in my life, and I don’t want this to be a religious speech so I’m calling it “Fat Chance.” (Those of us who believe God answers pray can call it “Thank God.)
I heard a survey result on TV the other day that said 64% of Americans pray daily. So I guess about 64% of Americans would say this is a religious speech about answered prayer; 38% will say, “Wow, what a coincidence.” So whether or not these are answered prayers is up to you. Here are my stories:
Back in the early 60’s my family lived in Colorado. We lived in Alamosa, but we were driving on the highway from Pueblo to Canon City on a sort of semi business trip. Our car stopped; we couldn’t get it started. After a short time – maybe five minutes, a car pulled up to us coming from the west – we were traveling east. Would you believe who was in it! The Wilkins family! Our closest friends from when we lived in Oklahoma City. They had passed us as they were going east from Oklahoma City to visit Patsy’s mother in Carbondale, Colo. Their son, David, had said he saw Carl in the stopped car. They could hardly believe that he could be right but he was convincing enough that they turned around to see. Sure enough it was Carl. Orin helped to get the car started and we were all on our way again.
The second story is about Buttons. You remember, my puppy, the star of my parable “Consider the Puppy.” When he was a little fellow probably less than one year old, he got out of our yard one evening rather late. We tried to find him but it was soon too dark to have any chance. We lived rather close to a canal park area. I thought he might have gone there. Next morning I woke near dawn, got in the car to see if I could find him anywhere. We lived on 113th street where the road T’d into Windmill Road. I don’t know why I didn’t go to the park where I thought he might be, but I decided to go north on Windmill Road. I drove past 114th looking down the street to the east. On to 115th looking east; then I decided to go back to 114th. I turned around and went back turned east and saw a garage door open. A lady was getting in her car to go to work. I stopped and called, “I’ve lost a puppy.” “Oh,” she said, “is he a little brown colored Sitz Tsu? He came by last night and we locked him up in our back yard. Let me get him for you.” How is that for timing? In the time of a garage door going up.
Then there is my ring story. I had lost weight and my ring was loose. I was sitting at my desk talking on the phone, twirling my ring, thinking how good it was that it was loose. It fell off. I finished my call, turned around to pick up my ring. Couldn’t find it. I become rather frantic. It must be there! There is a school bag behind me, nothing else; I look through it. Nothing. It couldn’t have bounced far on my carpeted floor. It has to be there. Look down the air duct. Nothing. Call Krissy and her friend to help me look. They found nothing. Sammy got in the action. Vacuums the floor; carefully goes through the dirt. Nothing. It is not to be found. I become somewhat suspicious. Could Krissy’s friend have found it and taken it home with him? My friend Margaret prayed about it, but I had completely given it up. I had another ring made. Margaret asked me periodically whether or not I had found my ring. She was a stubborn sort. About a year later, Krissy pulled out a box of games which was kept in the cabinet behind my desk. “Oh, gramma!” she said, “Is this your ring?” Sure enough, my wedding ring! In a shoe box filled with Uno, Rook, Go,fish!” How did it get there? I’ll never know.
Truth is, I’m in the 64%. I don’t necessarily believe both Texas/OU are both going to win the same game because both sides are praying desperately. But I do believe the scripture, II Chronicles 16:9, that says the eyes of the Lord look to and fro to do good for his people.
To those in the 38%, isn’t coincidence wonderful! And to those of us in the 64%, isn’t God wonderful!
(Yep, I know it doesn’t total 100%. I guess some numbers were rounded up.)
Government can give food, churches can give food, charities can give food. Throw money in the pot and distribute money, throw food in the pot and distribute food, but there is way to throw love into the pot and distribute love. Love can only be given by individuals, alone or in the group. Jesus says to love your neighbor as yourself. How many of us give thousands of dollars to missions but have never bought even a potted plant for a neighbor?
Think of how well loved King David was; yet in Psalms 142:4, he says, “no man cared for my soul.” If David felt like that, think of how many people we meet who are crying out for someone to care.
Today I recommend that you google the poem “Please Hear What I’m Not Saying.” It is too long for this blog, but I promise it is not too long for your heart. It begins: “Don’t be fooled by me. Don’t be fooled by the mask I wear! For I wear a mask. I wear a thousand masks. Masks that I’m afraid to take off and none of them are me…”
So many needy people wearing masks, very rarely do they let the mask slip so we recognize their hurtles, hurts, and heartaches.
Spring is here; neighbors are out more. Do you know them? Do you know what happens behind their masks? Or, is your own mask so blinding that you can’t see?
Title of poem by Charles C. Finn
Harry sat in his old recliner, remembering Mattie. That Mattie! She was something else all right! Funny about the night they stayed in the Palace Hotel. Cost them a pretty penny! Mattie couldn’t wait to get home. She said the light blades reminded her of a job she needed to do. She was always in a hurry to do any job – this time, re-varnishing an old three-legged stool she bought at the auction. Imagine. Mattie in the Palace, thinking about varnishing a three-legged stool. Nobody like Mattie. He wished she was still sitting on his lap in the old recliner.
We had a look into the life of Mattie and Harry back some time ago. Some readers ask me to do other Mattie and Harry stories; so here’s another.
I’m pitching my hat into a new challenge today. The Friday Fiction (100 words or less) offered by Rochelle. Hope I’m doing it right. Looks like fun. Check it out! Picture prompt from Rochelle.
Mind the hidden trap –
Evil may show up as shy
Disguised in sweetness.
Image by Pixabay
As I sat here picking up loose change from my desk drawer. I thought, “If anyone calls and asks what I’m doing, I’ll answer, Nothing.” I was actually doing something of great value! In about thirty seconds, I gathered $1.30. That’s $156.00 per hour! How worthless the coins were in that drawer. I don’t know how much my wage was when I earned that $1.30, but I know the coins are now worthless until I get it out into circulation again.
Makes me think of the fellow whose landlord gave him a talent he just stuck away. Doesn’t the Bible say the servant went off, dropped his talent in the drawer for safekeeping? Well, not exactly. But I’m definitely seeing a lesson in here someplace.
Actually he hid his talent in the ground – maybe he didn’t have a drawer. Matthew 25:18
Image above: This desk drawer belongs to yours truly. I’ve got ninety-one cents in there again already. I’m just rolling in the dough!
“Salty talk” is not descriptive of cultured language. In fact it borders on indelicacy or impropriety – sometimes it is indecent. Why am I discussing salty talk? Because of Matthew 5:13 where Jesus tells his followers, “You are the salt of the world.’
Let me present three things he might have had in mind.
Salt is a seasoning. I dare say the highest criticism of food in hospitals and rest homes is that there is no salt in the food. I concur. In my house you might hear something like this:
“Hand me the salt shaker.”
“Sammy, I salted the potatoes already.”
As Sammy takes the shaker, I repeat, “I put salt in the potatoes.”
As he adds salt, I say, “You should taste those before you add salt.”
Then I quietly get a second shaker and add salt on my own. 😀
Yes, we like our salt. Vinegar and salt potato chips. Um, um, good. Um, um, good. That’s what vinegar and salt potato chips are. Um, um, good.
- Salt is a healing agent. It might not be known as such anymore. But in my background, it was good for everything that needed an antiseptic. Canker sores, sore throat, bleeding gums, skinned knees – that was not, um, um, good! But it did speed the healing process.
- Salt is a preservative. Pig butchering day! What a day! Aunts and uncles came to help. Meat was everywhere! Render the fat. Cook the ribs. Put the cooked meat in big cans and pour on the fat. Fry the tenderloins for supper. But the ham and bacon didn’t have to be cooked that day. It was salted, and stored in the storehouse. Then we had fresh meat all winter, that is, if you can call salted meat fresh, anyway it was preserved.
So, with those bits of information, how might the “salt of the world” – you and I – talk some “salty talk”.
First, be seasoning. When people used to ask my father-in-law, How are you? He replied, “I’m saved, thank you.” That probably added a spice to some folks. Would you acknowledge that you are sometimes a grouch. Try a little salty talk “Give the world some salt each day. Help to brighten someone’s way.” Add zest to the mundane!
Second, try salty talk for healing. The Bible says that life and death is in the power of the tongue. Have you seen the commercial where dad is under the sink working on the pipes, and the little boy comes and asks if he can help. Dad says, “No buddy, this is man’s work.” A dejected little boy walks away. I almost cry. Then dad says, “Hey, buddy, could you come hold the flashlight for me.” I want to jump with joy over dad’s good sense. What a healing tongue for that child. A little guy was reading the song book at church. I complimented him a bit, but later I realized what a golden opportunity I had lost in not making a big deal – a mountain of salt – that would have spiced that little guy’s life for some time. Maybe it would have made a difference in his whole school outlook.
What might “salty talk” do to preserve? In the form of pickets and editorials, it might help preserve our Judeo-Christian values. In the form of “I Love Yous” it might preserve our families. In the form of prayer, it might preserve our nation. In the form of “Thanks for a job well done,” it might sustain employment for someone. When Brad or Betty in Walmart’s garden center load eight bags of gravel for you, sweat rolling, call Wal-Mart and tell them what a good service they rendered. Brad or Betty and some supervisor will have a lift for the day.
So what did Jesus mean when he said we are salt. I’m sure he did not have in mind Lot’s wife who turned to a pillar of stone – a stone statue standing still, silent and impotent amidst a multitude of people who need zest, healing, and preservation.
No, I’m sure he meant for us to “spread a little salt around.”
image from pixabay
Tell me, Regal Pines,
as your fingers point to God,
Is MY life hopeful?